At the Crossroads
by JPM1978
Summary: Gina Calabrese and Martin Castillo have worked together for five years, and now everything's changed. But will demons from the past and obstacles in the present allow them to have a future?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Please see RedRose85's _Darker Side of Miami_! The first part of chapter one was my inspiration for this, and immediately precedes it. I loved her idea of Martin and Gina eventually finding each other.**

The golden rays of the morning sun woke me from a sound sleep. I groaned, why couldn't night have been just a little longer? I reached over to turn off my alarm clock, but I quickly realized I wasn't in my own bed. And I wasn't alone. My eyes flew open as the details of last night slowly came back to me. Part of me wanted to sneak out of bed, I knew I wouldn't be able to face the look of regret that my boss was sure to have on his face as soon as he saw me. Surely straight-laced, by-the-book Martin Castillo wouldn't stand for an affair with a subordinate.

"Good morning," the gruff, all-to-familiar voice belonging to the figure next to me said. He rolled over, and gave me a still unfamiliar and very unexpected smile, which slowly dissolved into a look of concern. "You look worried."

"I- I was scared you'd wake up and regret last night." I could barely raise my voice over a whisper. "If you want me to resign, I will, or I'll put in for a transfer, or…"

He put his finger to my lips. "No." Clear, concise, to the point, not wasting words. That was the Castillo I knew. But the words 'I already lost two detectives this week, I won't lose you too' hung in the air between us. Five years had taught me to hear the words Martin never said.

I felt tears sting my eyes. After last night, the tenderness we shared, how could I go back to just being colleagues? And how could I have been so stupid to let this happen? Once again I had given too much of myself too fast. It happened over and over, first with Sonny, then Sean, and Frank Mosca, and even that filthy Lupo Ramirez. Only this time, I may have sacrificed my career along with my dignity. Normally I would run home and call Trudy. She would come over with a bottle of wine and let me cry on her shoulder for hours. How could I do that this time? What would I say? 'Hey Trudy, I had a one night stand with the boss…'

Finally, I found my voice. "I- I guess I'd better go," I stammered, standing and collecting my clothes with shaking hands.

"Gina, how many women have you seen me date over the last five years?"

I considered his question for a moment as I buttoned my blouse. For as long as I had known him, Martin Castillo had lived a solitary existence, with only the company of his work and the memory of a tragically destroyed marriage. "None," I answered, still avoiding eye contact

He moved in front of me and kneeled at my feet as I sat on the edge of the bed. "Gina, I don't want to force you into anything. I know I don't exactly match the description of the men you usually date, and there's the matter of our age difference. But I care for you very much, I always have. I don't want to hide it anymore."

That may have been the most words I had heard Martin Castillo string together at one time, and it left me sitting in awe. It was true, he was unlike any man I had dated, but I still couldn't deny how attracted I found myself to him. He had stability and integrity, something which many of my past relationships had lacked. I knew something in my heart was begging me to try to make this work. A smile crept across my face and I pulled him toward me into a passionate kiss. Win or lose, I knew my life was about to change forever. There was no going back.


	2. Chapter 2

That morning I took a shower at Martin's house, and when I came downstairs the table was set with a pot of steaming hot green tea and an artfully arranged plate of fresh fruit. Glancing out the picture window, I could see the sun was already blazing hot, reflecting over the canal making the water sparkle.

"Good morning again," Martin greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, and handed me a cup of tea.

I knew the late spring weather in Miami would already be oppressively hot and humid, even in the morning, but Martin's sparsely decorated asian-style home was cool and comfortable. It was then that I realized it was more than cool, it was just plain cold. It had the feel of a model home- clean and uncluttered, yet no hint of any personal effects of any kind. No portraits of family members, no pictures depicting happy childhood memories. Martin and never volunteered any information about his past, and it felt too soon to pry. Somehow I knew there was even more to Martin's already painful past, and perhaps someday he would trust me enough to share that.

"Your home is so beautiful!" I remarked. "You must have really loved your time living in Asia." Instantly, I regretted the last part of my statement. The last thing I wanted to do was remind him of May Ying, who was now newly divorced and had stayed here only months ago. For a split second I wondered if they had slept together when she was here last, then and instantly I drove the thought from my mind. I could only imagine what Trudy would have said: 'Less than twelve hours in, and you're already feeling territorial? That's a new record!'

Martin took a sip of tea. "Thank you. But I was a different person then. Optimistic, determined… I thought I could change the world. I was a just a naive kid."

"Weren't we all," I agreed. The last few years had often left me feeling jaded and frustrated at work, but still it was important to me. I wasn't yet ready to throw my badge on the ground as Sonny and Rico had done.

On the drive to work, I tried hard to process what was happening. I was dating my boss. And Martin Castillo would not tolerate a fling. No, this was real. Could I picture us married? Having children? I still found myself lost in thought as I adjusted my makeup in the women's bathroom ad Trudy approached me.

"Where were _you_ all night?"

"What? What do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"I tried calling you, you weren't home. End up with a hot date? Let me guess… that sexy DA that you went out with last week?"

"No, no nothing like that. I just went to bed early, that's all."

"Girl, that is nonsense and you know it. Look at you, you're wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and I can tell you're lying when you don't look me in the eye. Now spill it." She paused and eyed me. "It was that DA, wasn't it?"

"No, Trudy, it wasn't him."

"I knew it was someone though! Oh wait, that new guy in homicide? He was cute, and I saw him looking at you."

"Not him either." I leaned in close. "Trudy, if I tell you, you need to promise not to tell another soul. Not yet at least."

She looked worried and put a hand on my shoulder. "Gina Calabrese if you're in some sort of trouble…"

"I'm not in trouble, at least not yet. Remember yesterday at lunch we were talking about how the Lieutenant didn't seem to be himself after Sonny and Rico quit? Well, last night after work I went over to his place to make sure he was doing okay. We started talking and-" My voice trailed off.

Trudy's jaw dropped open, but words refused to come out. "Gina- you- and- Castillo… you're kidding, right?" She stammered.

I shook my head. "I'm not. And Trudy, it was wonderful. I haven't told anyone this, but there's something about him over the past few years that I've found so attractive. Remember when Ernesto was killed? And when Klaus came into my life? He tries to shut everyone out, but inside there is someone who is warm and kind. Last night I got to see that and- I think I'm really falling for him."

Trudy raised an eyebrow and giggled softly. "Well, I did tell you he was cute that first day."

I smiled back and hugged her tight. "What can I say? When you're right, you're right!"

"But what are you guys going to do? The higher-ups won't like this."

Sitting back down I buried my face in my hands. "I know, but I think we'll just have to wait to see how serious it gets." This just figures, I finally have a man who is everything I ever dreamed of. Why did it have to be my boss?


	3. Chapter 3: Gina's Story

Weeks went by, and Gina and Martin found themselves spending nearly every evening together and he found himself spending less and less nights sleeping his desk chair, obsessing over work. Sometimes they would spend hours in his living room sharing a bottle of wine, watching a flickering candle cast shadows on the wall.

They spoke of current events, work, or their mutual friends (which recently included Sonny's seemingly outlandish plans to move to Alaska, but Gina reluctantly agreed that a change of pace would be good for him). But both seemed to avoid any discussion of their pasts like the plague. In any other relationship, this might be a red flag, but Gina's intuition told her there was pain in Martin's life far beyond May Ying and Thailand. She had spent many nights in his home, but had seen nothing that gave any hint to who he had once been. No pictures of family, no mementos, nothing that would have set his house apart from a nondescript model home. But they could never have a real relationship unless he trusted her enough to open up.

At the same time, she got the impression that he was tip toeing around her own past. He knew her mother had been killed in Cuba when she was a baby, and she was certain he didn't want to bring painful wounds to the surface. Maybe she needed to take the first step in order to get him to open up. It had been years since she had brought a man home to meet her aunt and uncle; it wasn't as though she could have brought Frank Mosca home!

"I want you to meet my aunt and uncle," she finally blurted out, causing Martin to raise an eyebrow in surprise. Her boldness startled her a little, they weren't yet that open with their relationship.

He smiled though, and kissed her on the forehead. "I would love that, Gina. Tell me about them." His gentle encouraging brought old memories to the surface, memories she hadn't thought about in years. She smiled at the memory and began her story.

Miami, 1966

"Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three…" Seven year old Gina counted out loud breathlessly as she jumped. School was out for the day, but she was determined to break the playground jump rope record and wanted to practice a little more. She was nearly oblivious to the conversation of the girls around her.

"My mother is getting me a pink dress with little flowers all over it for the father-daughter picnic! It's so beautiful, and very expensive," Laura bragged, tossing her blond curls over her shoulder.

The other girls oohed and ahhhed at the idea. All except Gina, who ignored her and continued jumping rope.

"What about you, Gina? Are you getting a new dress?" her friend Melissa asked kindly.

Gina stopped jumping and opened her mouth to answer, but Laura was faster.

"She doesn't even have a father. Or a mother, for that matter." The other girls looked at Gina with sympathetic eyes while Laura just gloated.

"You be quiet, Laura Taylor! I do so have a mom and dad!" Gina shot back.

Laura rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, you have an _aunt_ and _uncle_ ," she corrected condescendingly.

Gina clenched her fists. It was taking every ounce of her restraint not to punch Laura in the mouth. That would shut her up. "Are you stupid, Laura? I do so have a mother and father! Everybody does! It's just that mine died. And I just know Uncle Chris will come with me to the father daughter picnic, he's practically like a father to me anyway."

"No he won't! The picnic is for fathers and daughters, not for orphans and guys who are sort of their dad. Your aunt just married your 'uncle', didn't she, Gina? And how do you think he really feels about raising some kid that's not even related to him? Trust me, someday your Aunt is going to have their REAL kid, and you'll just be in the way." Laura crossed her arms, feeling satisfied.

Melissa chimed in. "That's really mean, Laura!"

Laura shrugged, trying to appear innocent. "I'm just being honest!"

Meanwhile, Gina felt a little red hot flame of rage ignite within her, as her eyes burned with angry tears. She could control herself no more and reached out, grasped one of Laura's perfect blond curls and pulled as hard as she could, causing Laura to let out a high pitched scream. Gina released her and ran as fast as she could, tears streaming down her face, not slowing down until she was certain she had put a safe distance between her and Laura. That good for nothing little tattletale would probably run home and tell her mother, who would call Aunt Rose, but Gina would just have to deal with that later.

At home, safe in her room, Gina examined the flyer for the father-daughter picnic that had been handed out at school that day. Oh how excited she had been to bring her new Uncle Chris to show off to all her friends! Unlike Laura, Gina's family didn't have money to buy a fancy new dress, but her seamstress aunt was busy making a beautiful yellow sundress that reminded her of the spring sunshine. For as long as she could remember, it had been just her and Aunt Rose. That is, until Rose met Christopher Calabrese. He was smart, funny, and fit right into their little family. He and Rose had married just last summer. Gina had never known her own father, but Uncle Chris was every bit the father she had always dreamed of. He was fun and energetic, always used silly voices when he read her stories, taught her to catch a ball, and ran with her in the ocean waves. She had never felt anything other than love and acceptance from him, but Laura's words still nagged at her. What if she was right?

That evening, Gina came downstairs to the kitchen, surprised to find her aunt busily setting the dining room table and lighting candles. "Aunt Rose? Are we having company tonight?"

Rose beamed happily. Gina's pretty young aunt always had a bright smile, but tonight something about her seemed different, as if there were an extra sparkle in her eyes. "No, it's just the three of us. But Uncle Chris and I have a special surprise for you!"

Gina wondered what the surprise was? The last time her Aunt had a big surprise is was about her engagement to Uncle Chris. What could it be this time? Maybe they were moving? Maybe they were going on vacation? Aunt Rose and Uncle Chris hadn't taken a real honeymoon, that had to be it! What a great day this had turned out to be, and even that old tattletale Laura couldn't spoil it!

Just then she heard the familiar creak of the front door opening and the heavy sound of shoes on the entry way tile. "Uncle Chris!" She shouted excitedly, running into his arms.

He knelt down slightly and opened his arms wide to grab her and swing her around, making her raven curls float up above her head. "How are ya, Jeen-Bean?"

She giggled at his nickname for her. "I'm good! Aunt Rose says there's a big surprise! Tell me what it is, pleeeeaaase?" She jumped up and down with anticipation.

He made a motion with his fingers as though he were zipping his lips. "Sorry kiddo, I'm sworn to secrecy. You'll just have to wait for dinner!"

Aunt Rose peeked her head in from the kitchen. "And you don't have to wait long! Wash up, dinner is on the table!"

Gina could barely contain herself as she sat across from her aunt and uncle. It just had to be a vacation! How fun it would be to spend time with her aunt and uncle in some faraway place. Maybe Key West? Or some island in the Caribbean? Maybe they would have to take a boat to get there! Or even a plane!

Uncle Chris grasped Aunt Rose's hand and they exchanged a smile. Here came the big news!

"Well Gina, what we wanted to tell you is…" Aunt Rose began. Gina held her breath.

"You're going to be a big cousin!" Uncle Chris finished, grinning broadly.

A baby? Gina felt her face fall, and it seemed that her heart hit the floor and all the breath had been sucked out of her. Immediately, Laura's words from that afternoon echoed in her head. 'You'll just be in the way!' Gina never thought it would happen, not so fast, but here it was. A tear fell down her face as she stared at her aunt and uncle, who first looked at one another, then stared back in confusion. Clearly she had not given them the reaction they were expecting. Words failed her though, and she got up from her chair, throwing it aside, and ran upstairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her. She flopped down on her bed, sobbing. Laura had been right all along! Now Rose and Chris would have a real kid, one they would love much more than her. On her dresser she caught sight of the flyer for the father-daughter picnic. She seized it and crumpled it angrily, throwing it on the floor.

Gina wasn't normally one to feel sorry for herself, but she had no one else in the world. Where would she go? She thought of characters in books she had read who had been orphaned. They all went to live in smelly orphanages with mean ladies that made them scrub floors all day and eat mush. Is that what would become of Gina? Some big surprise this turned out to be.

There was a soft tap at the door. "Jeen-Bean? You in there?" Chris asked, stepping in the room cautiously and sitting on the edge of her bed. Rose stood beside him. Gina refused to even look at him, and he gently rubbed her back. "What's going on kiddo? Why so upset all of a sudden?"

Gina sniffled and tried to catch her breath. She looked up at Chris' concerned face with her own eyes, red and puffy from crying. "There's going to be a baby. You and Aunt Rose's real kid. And… and… you won't want me anymore."

Chris turned to Rose and then back to Gina.

"Oh sweetheart…" Rose sat on the bed, with Gina between her and Chris.

"Gina, you might not be related to me by blood, but I love you as if you were my own daughter. Love isn't like a pie that gets eaten up, there's more than enough love here for you, Aunt Rose and your little cousin."

Gina wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Really?" she asked softly, taking a tissue from her aunt.

"Of course! Darling, when your mom died, it broke my heart. She was always my big sister, the one I looked up to! I didn't know how I'd go on living without her. But now I see her everyday, your smile, your eyes, that little bit of sass that comes out sometimes…" She gave Gina a little nudge with her elbow and winked. "You are every bit your mom, and I know she's so proud of who you are becoming."

Gina glanced over to her dresser, where a framed photograph of her mother smiled back at her.

"And I never knew her, but I feel like I did, just by knowing you," Uncle Chris added. "Now, how about we head downstairs before that delicious dinner your aunt made gets cold? And we can talk all about that picnic that's coming up!"

Gina smiled, feeling safe and loved sitting between her aunt and uncle. No matter what Laura said, no matter what anyone said, she did have a family, a real family.

Miami, 1990

"You're lucky to have them, Gina," Martin's reply was succinct, but her ear had learned to read him better in recent months. There was warmth in his voice.

"I am." She grinned. Despite having been born into violence and tragedy, the beautiful memories of childhood innocence surrounded by her younger cousins flooded back to her. She studied Martin, and saw a hint of sadness in his eyes and it irritated her that she didn't know what was behind them. They were in a serious relationship, and she felt she needed to break down his cold, enigmatic facade once and for all. She took a deep breath. "Martin, tell me about your childhood."

It wasn't a question, there was no turning back. She had to know the real Martin Castillo.


	4. Chapter 4: Martin's Story

Martin remained silent for a moment, staring intently at the wall ahead of him, almost as if he hoped the question would disappear if he ignored it.

But Gina was relentless. "Please Martin, tell me. You never talk about your past and I need to know who you are."

He hesitated a moment, then finally spoke softly. "I was born in Havana, like you."

"I know, but… do you have family? Where are your parents?"

A sad look fell over his face as he looked away. "My past isn't important."

Gently she brushed his cheek lovingly with the back of her hand. "It is to me," she pressed softly. Inside her heart pounded nervously, she knew she was begining to tread in dangerous territory, and still their relationship was so new. Should she really be pressuring him to open up?

He swallowed hard. "My parents are dead. They died when I was nine years old."

Gina grasped his hand and squeezed it. She suddenly felt even closer to him. Both orphaned in the same country, around the same time. "You remember them though?" Her voice was nearly a whisper. She was still afraid to awaken what must be painful memories.

A smile crept across his face. "I remember my mother's smile, the way she always made my father laugh, the way she sang to me… She was a dancer, she taught ballet when I was young. My father was a lawyer, they met when he was at the University. They were very much in love, and they gave me a wonderful childhood."

"But?" Gina pressed.

"But unbeknownst to me they had very vocal anti-Communist beliefs…it cost them everything."

Havana, 1959, Martin's Point of View

It had been an afternoon like any other. I had just turned nine years old, blissfuly unaware of the rumbles of revolution in my city. My world revolved around school and impromptu baseball games played in the street with my friends. My parents sheltered me from any unrest around us, and even from their own outspoken political views.

My mother looked up from the kitchen sink where she was scrubbing dishes. "Martin, have you finished your homework?"

"But Mama, it's easy! I can do it later. Please can't I go outside and play?" I whined.

"You know the rules, Martin." Her voice was stern, but her face and eyes were warm and kind as always.

I sighed and pulled my books and papers to the kitchen table just as I heard the front door squeak open. "Papa!" I cried excitedly. Jumping up I ran to the door, expecting him to grab me, toss me in the air and spin me around like always. Instead I was met by a look I had never seen on my father's face: the unmistakeable look of fear.

My mother noticed it too. "Miguel? What is it?"

My father was frantic. "Maria, there are some men looking for me. Take Martin though the back door, you need to get out now!"

But my mother was stubborn, and her love for my father and her principles were unyielding. "

You must come with us!"

"No! They'll find us, Maria!"

Meanwhile I stood grasping my mother's apron as if it would give me some sort of support, my eyes shifting back and forth from my father to my mother. I had never heard this kind of urgency in my parent's voices. What was happening?

My mother grasped my father's shoulders. "Miguel, I won't leave you! Please…"

She was interrupted by angry shouts from outside that were approaching the house.

My father grabbed me and shoved me into a small closet off the living room. My heart was pounding with fear, but he knelt in front of me, calmly taking my hand in his. His voice was firm, but a near whisper. "Martin, stay in here no matter what. Don't move. Do you understand?"

I desperately wanted to ask what was happening, to plead with him to tell me that everything would be okay. But the words refused to come out. I simply nodded and he closed the door leaving me in darkness.

Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door.

"Open the door, Castillo! We know you're there!" A loud voice demanded, causing me to gasp in fear.

There more indecipherable shouts and the splintering of wood as the door was broken. I didn't understand all the words that were exchanged, but my father was told he was being taken prisoner, and my mother frantically pleaded with the soldiers. Her pleas were silenced by a gunshot, a scream, and a second gunshot, followed by the frightening voices quickly fading into the distance.

I was so afraid I could scarcely take breath into my lungs. I sat there in the dark for what felt like hours. My father had told me to stay where I was, and I did not want to disobey him. I prayed silently to any god who would listen that my parents would come open that door, hug me tight and assure me that everything was fine. But as the light from under the door began to fade into near darkness, reality sunk in. "Mama? Papa?" I managed to squeak the words out. Tears streamed down my cheek and with a shaking hand I turned the knob, opening the door. Only the pale orange light of sunset illuminated the room. Across the room were my parents bodies, motionless. My father's hand still grasped my mother's. In an instant, my life had changed forever, and my childhood cruelly stolen from me.

Miami, 1989

"Martin, I had no idea…"

He went on. "My uncle took me in, and brought me to Miami shortly after. But it was the only kind gesture he ever showed me. He was single and resented being stuck raising his brother's kid. He beat me so much it was almost as much a part of my daily routine as getting dressed and brushing my teeth. I moved out as soon as I turned 17. I began to realize that despite that my uncle told me on a daily basis, I wasn't completely worthless. Put myself through college and jumped at the chance when I was recruited by the CIA. I guess part of me thought if I was trained to fight, nobody could hurt me or the ones I loved ever again." He shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately it didn't quite work that way."

She rubbed his back gently. "Then you joined the DEA? And went to Thailand and met May Ying."

"Yes. I knew I loved her, but I refused to let myself get close to her at first. I was scared of what could happen."

Gina nodded. She had assumed that Martin's past most likely held some painful secrets, but no child should witness their parents' murder. Finally, she spoke once again. "Are you afraid to get close to me?"

"I was, Gina. For so long I was. But not anymore." He kissed me and his eyes locked with mine. "I love you, Gina."


	5. Chapter 5

Deep in thought, Gina drank the last of her coffee, the sea breeze ruffling her hair. The last month had been such a whirlwind in her new-found love with Martin. There were still so many unanswered questions, so many things uncertain in their future, but for the first time in a long time, her heart felt full. Absentmindedly, her fingers ran over the smooth pearl that formed the center of her engagement ring, flanked by two sparkling diamonds. It was a vintage style, and had belonged to his mother. It was miraculously one of the few things his parents owned that his uncle hadn't sold or squandered, Martin had recalled with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

She recalled the evening Martin had proposed to her. They had been sitting in his yard, listening to the night birds and watching the sunset. His home was so secluded by it's lush green foliage that she almost felt far away from Miami. Just as the sky had turned a fiery orange, he dropped to one knee and asked for her hand in marriage. He assured her that he would deal with the noise that the higher ups would no doubt make, and she trusted him. Nobody wanted to cross Martin Castillo.

The following days, he would talk with her about the future. They both wanted children, and given his age, he didn't want to wait long. Much to her own surprise, she could easily imagine Martin being an excellent father. He wanted to plan the wedding, discuss where they would live, but somehow she still hesitated. She could tell that that her hesitation was hurting him and she didn't want him to feel that he embarrassed her.

But up to now, the only person she had told about their relationship was Trudy, and only because keeping secrets from her best friend and partner was impossible. But what would the others say? Stan, Rico, and mostly Sonny? She knew they respected Martin, but they also worried about her. She didn't have the most stellar romantic history, could they trust Martin enough to support their relationship?

Suddenly, Gina flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see a familiar grinning face, with sparkling green eyes hidden behind a pair of Ray Bans.

"Hey darlin'!"

"Sonny!" She exclaimed in surprise. She stood and threw her arms around him. Since he had left Vice (and since she had been so wrapped up in her romance), they hadn't seen much of each other. "I'm surprised you're not with Rico?"

"Eh, he's ben spendin' a lot of time with Trudy lately. Who knows? Maybe she can convince him to stick around Florida after all." Sonny froze and his eyes were immediately drawn to Gina's left hand. Instantly, his face fell. "Gina… what… who…" He stammered. His expression was somewhere between shock and worry.

She bit her lower lip and avoided eye contact. "Sonny, we need to talk."

Any shock on his face disappeared and was replaced with complete worry. Gently he took her hand as they sat down.

"Sonny, after you left, we were all devastated, especially Mart- er, Lieutenant Castillo. I was worried about him, he just seemed more somber than usual. I went over to his house and…"

Sonny suddenly threw his head back and laughed, interrupting her. "Wait, you're kiddin', right?" He looked back at Gina. Beautiful, fun-loving Gina with stiff Martin Castillo? But she remained serious. "You're not kidding…."

She shook her head.

Sonny sighed. "Well, I guess that explains why Stan said the Lieutenant had been acting so weird lately."

Gina knew what he meant. For the usually frustratingly silent Castillo, happiness _was_ unusual.

"We're engaged, Sonny." she said quickly. It sounded so foreign, it was one of the first times she had said the words out loud.

He turned serious. "Do you love him?"

Gina smiled. "More than I ever thought I could love anyone. He respects me, as a cop and as a person. He is loving and kind and stable… everything I need right now."

Sonny grinned, this time in pure joy. "I see it in your eyes, you know. I've seen you in relationships before and I've never seen that look in your eyes." Sonny put his sunglasses back on. "But you know, he's not my boss anymore. If he hurts you, you can count on me to take care of things. You know I'm always here for you Gina."

She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Thanks, Sonny."

He smiled back. "Now, tell me all about these wedding plans of yours."


	6. Chapter 6

"I can't believe it! You and Rico are going to be parents!" Gina exclaimed as she carefully lifted her son into his high chair. Miguel Christopher Castillo was just over one year old and with his full head of thick, dark brown hair and deep thoughtful eyes, was already bearing a strong resemblance to his father. Trudy reached over and tousled her godson's hair as he nibbled on goldfish crackers. In return, he gave her a wide, toothy grin.

She sighed. "I can't believe it either! Didn't exactly happen in the timeline we had planned, but it seemed these things never do!" Absentmindedly, Trudy rubbed her belly, the growing life inside still too small to show, but already she was feeling the aches and pains of morning sickness. So is it really as hard as it seems? All those sleepless nights…"

Gina smiled thoughtfully as she gazed at her son who was carefully examining a cracker before putting it in his mouth. "It is tiring, but it's worth it."

"And it's been so worth it to see your husband smile so much! I swear, I've seen him smile more in the last two years since your wedding than I ever did in the five years before that! So when are you two gonna have another?" Trudy raised an eyebrow and Gina blushed.

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but we are hoping to have a little brother or sister for Miguel soon. it's too early to test for this month, but we have our fingers crossed!"

Trudy's eyes became wide and she grabbed Gina's hand, squeezing it. "That's great news! I know this little one would love to have a best friend. Wouldn't they be a pair? Just like us!" She and Gina laughed for a moment, then suddenly Trudy turned serious. "So… did you and Martin hear? About Menton?"

Gina felt her blood pressure rise at the mention of that name. Dale Menton had cause hell for her husband and OCB years ago. She nodded knowingly. "He's out of prison. And he's had a lot of time to think about stuff. If I can be honest, I'm a little worried. Martin's been adding extra security features to the house. I keep wanting to think he's overreacting, but we can't take chances. With everything that's happened in the past…" Gina thought about the intricately crocheted blanket in Miguel's room that had been a baby gift from May Ying. She was grateful for the friendship she had developed with May Ying, but Gina couldn't help reflecting on the circumstances of her husband's previous failed marriage.

Miguel who was looked up at her nervously, as if he had picked up on his mother's fears. He held up his arms. "Up, Mommy, up!"

Gina smiled and gathered him in her arms and hugged him tight.

Trudy put an arm around her friend. "Try not to worry, Gina. We're all looking out for your family."

"I'll be home late, but don't wait up." Martin's usually rough voice tried to soothe her over the phone. He knew how much she hated these late nights. Although she was no stranger to them herself, and was well aware of how her husband could handle himself in the face of danger, she still worried. It was so hard not to worry these days, when they both had a small child that was counting on them for everything.

Miguel looked up to his mother from the blocks he was carefully stacking on the floor as she set down the phone. "Daddy home?" he asked hopefully.

Gina smiled at him and picked him up, setting him on her hip. "Daddy will be home late. But right now, it's time for you to go to bed, my Miguelito."

He rubbed his eyes. "Not sleepy," he mumbled as he rested his head on her shoulder.

Despite her son's protests, Gina carried him upstairs and set him down in his crib. She read from "Peter Rabbit" in a soft, soothing voice until Miguel's eyes gently closed.

Feeling a bit tired herself, she walked down the hall to her and Martin's room, laid back on her own bed, and turned on the TV. It was so hard to sleep on nights like this. It seemed she constantly had one ear open, listening for the comforting sound of Martin's car crunching up the gravel driveway letting her know he was safe and sound. As the evening news droned on though, her eyes became heavier and heavier until they finally closed.

She felt as though she had only shut her eyes for a moment when she awoke with a start. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 12:00am. She strained her ears and could sense some motion down the hall and sounds coming from Miguel's room.

Strange, she thought. Miguel had been sleeping through the night for months, what had awoken him? Was he sick? She threw off the covers and tiptoed to his room. As she drew closer, she could distinctively hear another voice in her son's room, a man's deep voice, mumbling something softly.

"Shhhh…" she could hear the other voice shushing her son.

Gina froze. Was Martin in there? She knew he liked to look in on Miguel after a late night, but he wouldn't normally wake him. Ever since Miguel was born, she and Martin had been very cautious to lock their guns up on a high shelf of their closet. Now that he was a toddler and into everything, it made her feel safer in a way. But on the other hand, she recalled how having her weapon in the nightstand drawer had saved her once before. Should she take the time to arm herself? Or should she go in there right away, try to take on whoever it was by herself, potentially placing Miguel in more danger?

Her eyes were drawn to the room next to Miguel's, which they used as an office. A metal letter opener gleamed its silver sheen in the moonlight. Gina thought fast, grabbed the letter opener, and tore across the hall into her son's room.

In the shadows, a figure stood in the center of the room. In one arm, he held a frightened looking Miguel on his hip. In his other hand, Gina saw the cold, shiny steel of a gun. She gasped.

"Ah, Miss Calabrese. You took longer than I thought. Or, should I call you Mrs. Castillo?" He spat her name as he said it. The figure turned around, laughing evilly.

"Menton…" she whispered under her breath.

Miguel, even at his young age, seemed to understand the gravity of this situation. He held out his arms desperately to his mother, trying to free himself from Menton's clutches. "Mama…" he cried, his deep brown eyes pleading for her.

"Please," Gina begged. "Let him go! Do what you want with me, but he's just a child!"

"Fat chance. The last thing this world needs is this kid to grow up into another Martin Castillo, out to avenge his father's death," Menton sneered, and regarded the child in his arms with disgust. Carelessly, he tossed Miguel into his crib, where he landed with a thud followed by painful cries.

Gina gasped in horror. Was Martin dead already?

It was as though her attacker could read her mind. "Oh don't worry. Your beloved husband is alive and well. For now. I want him to see for himself what he has caused- the death of his perfect wife and child!"

Menton faced Gina pointing his gun at her as she slowly backed out the door. Frightened as she was for her own life, she wanted to put as much distance between Dale Menton and her child as possible. She knew she had one shot, she had to go at his throat with the letter opener and disable him fast. If she missed it, surely Menton would kill her. And he wouldn't hesitate to kill Miguel next. She tightened her grip on the cold metal in her hand.

"I've been waiting for this moment for five years," he grinned at her, baring his disgusting teeth. "Your husband ruined my life, he's been a thorn in my side ever since he was an obnoxious know-it-all kid in Thailand. And now, I'm finally going to finish the job I started years ago."

Gina's vision clouded over with rage. There was no time to think, she charged at Mention, stabbing him in the neck with the letter opener, knocking him down. They wrestled over the gun, and she could hear him growling and feel his hot breath against her ear. Never had she had so much at stake in restraining someone, bot her life and that of her son depended on that.

"You little bitch, mark my words, I'll kill you and your brat of a kid next!"

The next moments were a blur, and ended with the ear splitting sound of the gun firing. Gina immediately felt the unmistakable stickiness of blood on her hands, and after a short moment of horror, she realized that the blood was Menton's and not her own. He lay limply on the floor, a red stain quickly spreading across his shirt. She could tell he was alive, but barely.

The sound of the gunshot still rang painfully in Gina's ears. The world suddenly sounded as though she were under water, and she didn't even hear the thundering of footsteps on the stairs.

"Gina!" Martin cried frantically taking in the scene that had unfolded in his home.

She ran into the safety of his arms and he looked her over carefully for injuries. "He was in Miguel's room… threatening to kill us…" She leaned into her husband's chest crying, the emotional weight of that had just happened finally hitting her.

"Shhh, everything's okay. I'm here. It's over." Martin's voice was calm, loving, and soothing.

"Mama! Daddy!" Miguel's tearful cry caused both to snap to attention and run to their child's room. Miguel stood in his crib crying, his little face red and tearstained.

Martin carefully pulled his son into his arms, hugging him and Gina tight. "It's okay son, everything is alright. Mommy and Daddy will never let anything hurt you."


	7. Chapter 7

"Where is Gina? Is she okay? Can I see her? The baby isn't even due yet!" Sonny burst into the waiting room of North Shore Hospital, frantically looking around. Behind him, a very amused Rico pushed a stroller and shook his head.

Excitedly, two year old Miguel jumped off Trudy's lap and ran to them. He paused and peered into the stroller where two-month old Veronica Tubbs had just opened her eyes and begun to fuss.

"Hi, Baby Roni!" he said sweetly, waving to her. The fussing stopped, her eyes lit up and the corners of her mouth turned up into a big smile.

Rico chuckled. "You've got the magic touch, Miguel. She was pretty cranky on the elevator then as soon as she saw you she's all smiles!"

"Calm down, Sonny." Trudy placed a gentle hand on Sonny's arm and lead him to sit. "Yes, it's a little early but Martin is with her, and as far as I know everything is going fine."

Miguel climbed into his godfather's lap, his brown eyes bright and wide. "Uncle Sonny! Uncle Sonny! Guess what? I'm gonna have a baby sister!"

Sonny instantly relaxed and grinned at his godson's enthusiasm at sharing this 'news'. "Is that so?"

Miguel nodded, and the smile faded from his face. "Are my mommy and baby sister going to be okay? You looked worried."

Sonny hugged him. "You bet, kiddo. Your dad is with her and those doctors know exactly what they're doing. I just care about your mom a lot. And I couldn't wait to see her and that little sister of yours."

Sonny knew Miguel was an exceptionally bright child, and could almost see his mind working. "Uncle Sonny, how will the baby get out of Mommy's tummy?" he paused and looked thoughtful for another moment. "And how did the baby get in there?"

Sonny felt his face turn bright red under the curious gaze of those small, brown eyes. Nervusly he ran his fingers through his hair. "Um, well, I think your Aunt Trudy knows a whole lot more about that stuff."

Miguel turned to his Aunt expectantly, who looked horrified.

"You know what, I think I'll go back in the room and check on Gina and Martin. You know, um, just to see how things are going." Trudy disappeared down the hall.

Hearing the familiar "ding" of the elevator, all heads turned as Stan emerged, awkwardly carrying a gigantic bouquet of pink roses pink balloons and a large stuffed giraffe. "I wasn't sure what to bring, so I got it all!" He exclaimed.

"Uncle Stan!" Miguel ran excitedly to his surrogate uncle and threw his arms around his leg.

"Well if it isn't Miami's newest big brother!" Stan knelt down and ruffled Miguel's hair.

"Uncle Stan? Do you know how the baby got in Mommy's tummy? Uncle Sonny and Aunt Trudy don't know!" Miguel persisted.

Stan froze at this unexpected line of questioning with his jaw dropped open. He was fairly certain that his boss would not appreciate one of his detectives giving his son an impromptu sex ed lesson.

Sonny chuckled in amusement and relaxed back in his chair with his hands interlocked behind his head. "Well, Uncle Stan? Why don't you enlighten all of us?"

Rico just shook his head and tried not to laugh as he gave Roni a bottle.

Stan looked from Sonny back to Miguel, who was still staring intently. He knew that stare, he had been subjected to it many times at work from Miguel's father. There was no escaping "Uh, well, you see… the stork comes, and… you go to this cabbage patch, see…"

Miguel's eyes grew wide with interest.

Before Stan could finish, Trudy flew into the room and scooped up Miguel. "She's here! She's here!"

Stan breathed a sigh of relief.

The group quickly assembled in a room down the hall where a tired but happy Gina cradled a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket. At her side, Martin kissed his wife's forehead and smiled at his newborn daughter. Sonny was surprised to see that his eyes were a bit misty

Gina looked up at her friends and turned her daughter to see them. Her tiny head was covered with an equally tiny pink hat, but small wisps of fine black hair could be seen poking out. Her little eyes were squeezed shut.

"I'd like you all to meet Alison Elena Castillo," Gina said softly. She looked down to see Miguel shyly clinging to Trudy's leg. "Come meet your little sister, Miguelito," she beckoned.

Timidly he approached and carefully touched her hand. To his surprise, she gripped his finger tightly. "She's strong!" he remarked. "Hi Alison, I'm your big brother!"

Gina leaned close to her daughter. "You see Ali? That's your Aunt Trudy and Uncle Rico. I think you will be great friends with their little Veronica! And That's Uncle Sonny. He'll be the best godfather you could ask for. And that crazy guy is Uncle Stan. You're lucky to have him, he'll always look out for you."

Sonny smiled at the new family of four, and leaned in and stroked Alison's soft cheek gently. "She's beautiful," he whispered. A part of him would always long for what could have been between himself and Gina. But now, looking at her with Martin at her side, and now Miguel and Alison, he knew she was right where she needed to be, with the stability he could never give her.

Life was finally falling into place, for all of them.


	8. Chapter 8

Ten year old Miguel Castillo trudged up the driveway, sweating in the late afternoon sun. He glanced over his shoulder at the family's smile old neighbor, Mrs. Harris, who was busy watering her yard. He prayed she wouldn't yell at him like she always did. He turned the knob of the front door and was greeted by the cool relief of the air conditioned house. Sweet relief!

Gina poked her head out of the kitchen. "Is that you, Miguelito?"

"Yeah, Mom!"

"Make sure to close the front door, we're not trying to air condition all of Miami!"

He shut the door and rolled his eyes at that little warning, one that both his parents so often gave him. He flopped down on the couch and switched on the television. He was hot from the humidity that was already high in April and tired from a long day of school and baseball practice, Not to mention hungry. These created the perfect combination that resulted in a grouchy mood. All he felt like doing was laying on the couch to enjoy a mindless show. Even going to the kitchen for a snack seemed like too much work. Flipping through the channels he stopped at an episode of "Spongebob Squarepants." He was just beginning to laugh at SpongeBob and Patrick's latest crazy misadventure when the screen suddenly went blank. His sister, eight year old Alison Castillo, stood in front of him with her arms crossed.

"Hey!" Miguel protested, sitting up.

"Dad said you're not allowed to watch that," she announced.

"He did not! He just said it was a dumb show, not that I couldn't watch it!"

"He _said_ we're not allowed to watch TV before our homework is done. And since you just got home from baseball, I'm betting your homework isn't finished!"

"I just wanted to rest! What's the big deal?"

"If I were watching TV you'd give me a huge lecture. Why should you get to break the rules and I don't? What makes you so special?" Ali shot back.

Miguel froze with his mouth open, and the corner of Ali's mouth turned up slightly, into a smug smile. She knew she had him there.

"Because- because I'm older, that's why!" It was a weak defense, and he knew it. "Now give me that remote!" Miguel launched himself off the couch at Ali, making a grab for the remote. He was bigger than her, but she was small and quick. He chased after her circling the couch, and then toward the stairs when both children ran smack into the tall, dark form of their father, who stood stoic and stiff before them.

"What's going on in here?" he demanded, staring them both down.

Ali and Miguel exchanged a glance. They knew their father did not enjoy coming home from work to hear them argue.

Alison pointed a finger at her brother. "Daddy, he was watching TV! _Before_ homework! I told him that was against the rules and then he got all crazy!"

Martin stared pointedly at his son.

"Well- it's not fair! She always tries to get me in trouble!" Miguel knew he was grasping at straws, but persisted anyway. He knew at this point, he was not only in trouble for breaking the rules and fighting, but for having a bad attitude too. Nothing annoyed his father more than that. He turned to face his sister. "Alison Elena, you are a tattle tale!"

"I am not!"

"Are so!"

Martin closed his eyes and rubbed his temples like he always did when he felt a headache coming on. "Both of you, stop it right now! Your mother and I are sick of the bickering and fighting between you both, and I want to put an end to it!"

Miguel scowled. "Fine, so how long are we grounded for _this_ time?"

"You're not," was Martin's concise reply, causing his children to exchange a surprised glance. Grounding was their parents' go-to punishment these days.

"Let me guess, no TV for a week then." Ali grumbled.

"No, not that either. I want you two to cooperate to get something done together. You two need to work together and… clean the garage this weekend."

Miguel's face fell. The garage was hot! And full of dust and dirt and spiders, and who knew what else! "What? No! We can't! I mean…" he stammered.

Ali giggled. "Of course Miguel doesn't want to go out there. He's afraid of spiders," she informed her father.

"Shut up, Ali!"

"Well you are! Remember last week you saw one in the shower and you screamed so loud that Mrs. Harris called the cops?"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Enough! It's settled. You two will need to rely on one another and cooperate, plus a chore gets done that your mother and I have been putting off. You'll start first thing Saturday morning."

"Great, just great. This is not what I wanted to be doing on a Saturday, Ali." Miguel carefully swept cobwebs with a broom.

"Well, it's _your_ fault we're here in the first place, if you had kept your big mouth shut and hadn't started that fight Dad never would have made us do this…with all these spiders." she tickled the back of his neck, and he ducked and swatted her hand away.

"Stop it, Alison!"

Miguel continued sweeping as Ali began sorting through boxes. She peered inside one, coughing from the cloud of dust it stirred up. "Wow, look at all these pictures! These must be extras Mom didn't put in albums." She held up a photograph. "Aw, look it's baby Miguel on the potty! Look how cute you were back then! I wonder what happened?" She giggled hysterically.

Miguel reached over and snatched it out of her hand. "You'd better not show that to anyone, Alison!" He warned.

"Oh fine!" Reaching further in the box, Ali uncovered a dusty old leather bound photo album and stared at it quizzically. She began flipping through the pages which were filled with black and white photos of people and places she didn't recognize. "Look at this Miguel. Who do you think these people are?"

"How should I know?" He grumbled, still sweeping.

Ali ignored his attitude and continued turning the pages. "Miguel, do you ever wonder about Dad? Why he never tells us about his past? All our other friends have grandparents and cousins that send them birthday cards and come over on Christmas and holidays. Dad never even _mentions_ his family. Don't you think that's weird?"

He shrugged. "I guess. Maybe they're back in Cuba? It's pretty hard to contact people over there."

Ali went on as i she didn't hear her brother. "But he's never even said anything, you know? I mean, Mom's parents are dead, but we see her cousins and Aunt Rose all the time and we have pictures of our grandmother. We know she was a singer and that our grandfather died in the revolution. But Dad never tells us about his childhood, we don't even know one relative from the Castillo family. No aunts, no uncles, no grandparents… nothing! Hey, look at these pictures… it's Dad when he was young! And who is this guy? He's in a bunch of pictures with Dad. You think it could be his brother or something?"

Miguel leaned the broom against the wall and looked over Ali's shoulder. He studied the photographs critically. "That guy? He doesn't look like Dad at all, so probably not a relative. But he _is_ in a lot of these. Where do you think they were? Looks like some sort of jungle."

"Didn't he mention living in Asia once?" Ali wondered out loud.

Miguel nodded, envisioning the blanket that had been on his bed for as long as he could remember. It was intricately embroidered with an elephant in red and gold thread, and had been a gift from some friend of his father's… he couldn't recall who. "Yeah, I think he said Thailand. Maybe Vietnam too." He turned a few more pages. "And who's this kid?" Miguel pointed to a photo of a young boy. "He looks like he's your age."

Ali gasped in horror. "You think Dad has another son? Could that be our brother?"

Miguel looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't think so. We learned about genetics in science class. That kid has looks nothing like us and has blue eyes, and it's pretty unlikely Dad would ever have a blue eyed kid. Not impossible, but really unlikely."

"The date on the back says 1985. That kid must be Billy's age by now. Let's go ask Dad!" She grabbed photo from the album and turned to run out of the garage before Miguel grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Wait! Look, if Dad never talks about his past, maybe there's a reason for that? We don't want to make him mad, Ali."

Ali rolled her eyes and walking past, ignored her brother's protests. Nervously, Miguel followed her into the backyard where Martin was pruning a large bougainvillea while Gina pulled weeds nearby.

"Garage done already?" Martin asked, not looking away from the plant.

"Um, no, we just wanted to say hi…c'mon Ali, lets get back to the garage," Miguel made one last desperate attempt to pull Ali back, but she stayed firm and ignored him.

"Who's this?" Ali held up the photograph of the strange boy with genuine curiosity.

Leave it to Ali to get straight to the point, Miguel thought with a bit of admiration for her boldness.

Martin set the pruning shears and on the patio table and pulled off his gloves before taking the picture from Ali's hands. Gina looked up with concern and stood at her husband's side. They both stared at the picture and then looked at one another as if to say "what now?"

"Where did you find this?" Martin didn't take his eyes off the photograph.

"Um, in a box. With a bunch of other pictures. There were a some that looked like you when you were younger with some guy," Miguel replied nervously.

Gina placed a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder. They both knew that one day their children would have questions about Martin's difficult past, but now that the day had come they were still grossly underprepared to deal with it. She looked at her children and spoke quietly. "Maybe we should…"

"Jack Gretsky." Martin interrupted her and Ali and Miguel snapped to attention. "The man you saw in those pictures was Jack Gretsky. We worked together for many years in Southeast Asia. We were… brothers."

Miguel's jaw dropped. "We have an uncle?"

Martin smiled. He knew Jack would have loved to hear Ali and Miguel calling him "Uncle Jack." Many times he had looked at his children and wished Jack had lived long enough to see his family. _So little time,_ he had said that horrible night- the night he had been forced to kill his best friend. "We weren't family by blood, but so often it seemed we should have been." Martin sat in a chair and his children gathered around him, listening intently. "We worked side by side with the DEA, until one day our team was ambushed in the jungle. I barely survived and I was told he was dead."

Miguel and Ali were shocked. They knew their parents, as police officers, had dangerous jobs, but they had never considered their father left for dead in the jungles of Southeast Asia.

"But what does this Jack guy have to do with the boy in the picture?" Ali pressed.

"That's his son, Martin Gretsky."

"Named after you?" Ali guessed and Martin nodded.

"He's in college now, last I heard. Studying to be a doctor."

"Can we meet him? Ali asked excitedly. "I mean, he's practically our cousin!"

Martin smiled and smoothed her hair affectionately. "Someday, perhaps. Now, you two still have a lot of work to do." He handed Miguel the picture. "Put this away for me, will you?"

Miguel nodded and walked back toward the garage with Ali, still focused the photo. "Mom always said Dad was the one who named me. I wonder why he didn't name me Jack? He named his son after Dad, after all."

Ali shrugged. "Maybe there was someone named Miguel who was important to him? Who knows, if I had been a boy, maybe I would have been Jack."

Miguel nodded and handed his sister the broom. "Here, it's your turn to sweep. I'll take care of these boxes."

"What? You don't want to sweep away all those _spiders_?" Once again, Ali walked her fingers up Miguel's shoulder and tickled the back of his neck.

"Stop it!" This time he laughed along with her.

Finally, he carefully replaced the photo and closed the album cover. But as he did, a different photograph slipped out. It pictured a nicely dressed young man kissing a woman in some sort of traditional dress. They were surrounded by flowers and several happy onlookers. A wedding perhaps? Upon closer inspection, Miguel realized without a doubt that the man was his father. But the woman was definitely not his mother. He slammed the album shut and shoved the box on a shelf, his heart racing. What other secrets did his father hold? Would he ever know the truth about his past? And did he want to?

In the backyard, Martin had resumed pruning the shrub, but Gina could tell his mind was preoccupied. Over the years, through his work, her husband had made many dangerous enemies. Although her son's young mind had no recollection of the event, she would never forget the night she and Miguel's lives were almost lost at the hands of Dale Menton. And Martin would never forget the tragedies he had faced- the murder of his parents before his eyes and how his previous marriage had been destroyed. He was determined to keep his family safe, and leave the past buried. But someday their children deserved to know the truth.


	9. Chapter 9

Miguel turned his key in the lock and pushed open the front door. In the living room, he found Ali back laying on the sofa. One hand held her cell phone to her ear and with the other hand, she twirled a raven curl around her index finger.

"Ryan, that sounds great! Yeah, of course I'm excited to see what you did to the car! Sure, I'll be ready by then, you can pick me up whenever!"

Miguel frowned. He couldn't stand that asshole Ryan Rivera, who was always lurking around his sister. Lately, they were always on the phone, talking about clubs, parties, and drinking- all things Miguel felt his 14 year old sister had no business been involved in. But Ali still insisted on bringing Ryan around in his old, gas-guzzling car that she seemed to think was so cool. And for some reason, Ali though Miguel and Ryan were destined to be best buddies. But Miguel knew there was no way that would happen. Ryan was more classic rock, while Miguel was more classical. And while Ryan seemed to only talk about cars, Miguel barely knew how to open the hood. Besides, Miguel would never trust Ryan with his sister. Never. Every time that creep put his arm around Ali, Miguel had the urge to put his fist through that guy's face.

Ali turned and waved a silent greeting to her brother as she continued her phone call. "Oh Ryan, Miguel Just came home!" She extended her arm and held the phone out to him. "Say Hi to Ryan!" She encouraged him cheerfully.

Miguel grabbed the phone and held it to his ear. "Oh, hey Ryan." Then he closed the phone, hanging it up.

"What the hell did you hang up on him for?" Ali asked angrily as she snatched her phone back.

"What in the hell made you think I'd want to talk to _him_?" Miguel shot back. "And you'd better be careful having Rivera come around here.. You are way too young to be driving around the red light district with that guy! I swear Ali, if…" He stopped speaking, feeling the heat of Ali's angry stare boring straight through him. Not worth it to push her any farther, not now. Besides, he wouldn't mind seeing his father dropkick that obnoxious _pendejo_. He quickly changed the subject. "So, you wanna hear about my date with Roni?"

Ali made a face. "Sorry Romeo, I absolutely do not want to hear about what you did with my best friend in the backseat of your car."

He frowned, his feelings a bit hurt. "For your information, we went to see a movie."

"Okay, in that case I really don't want to hear about what you did with my best friend in the back of the movie theater." She picked up a book and leaned back, sinking into the couch cushions, but was startled by a knock at the door.

Miguel, who had been tuning his violin, looked up. "That had better not be Ryan!" He warned.

"That had better not be Ryan," Ali repeated in a high-pitched voice, mocking her brother as she walked toward the door.

A knock came again, harder this time.

"Alright, alright! Keep your pants on," she grumbled, turning the doorknob. On the other side, she found a well-dressed older man, who seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. "Can I help you?" She prompted.

He glanced down at a slip of paper in his hand, then looked back at Ali, seeming confused. "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong house. I was looking for Martin Castillo."

The man said her father's name with a Spanish inflection. Ali had learned from an early age that in his career her father had acquired many friends, but even more enemies. She eyed this man with suspicion and quickly took a mental inventory of the weapons her parents had in the house.

"Who is it, Ali?" Miguel asked, appearing beside her in the doorway.

"I dunno Miguel, Some guy looking for Dad," Ali replied, not taking her eyes off the stranger.

Making eye contact with Miguel, the man momentarily seemed to have the wind knocked out of him. "Miguel…" He whispered under his breath, staring intently, then seemed shaken back to reality. "My name is Enrique…"

"Look, pal, we'll let our dad know you stopped by, but I guarantee that unless you're selling Girl Scout cookies, he's not going to be interested," Ali interrupted.

The man continued to stare just beyond her at her brother, who felt increasingly awkward.

"And our parents are both cops so if you try anything crazy with us, Miami PD will be on your ass like mayo on a sandwich," Ali added.

The man nodded, not taking his eyes off Miguel. "Yes, yes of course. Please, have your father call me at this number." He handed Ali a nondescript card with a phone number scrawled on it before walking away.

Ali closed the door and studied the card.

"Man, I bet that's one of those kitchen remodel guys. Mom's always saying how they won't take no for an answer, even though we had ours remodeled last year," Miguel remarked, shaking his head.

"I don't think so, Mig. There was something about that guy… something familiar…."

Later that evening The Castillo family gathered for dinner around their dining room table.

"How was your day, kids?" Gina asked, spooning rice onto her plate.

"Great! I got an A on my Calculus test!" Miguel replied. "And Roni and I watched a movie after school."

Ali snorted. " _Watched a movie?_ Is that what they call it these days?" She giggled as Miguel turned bright red. Martin stared back at them both disapprovingly. Time to change the subject, she thought. "And I'm almost done with my essay on the causes of World War I." Ali exclaimed. "I can't wait to be finished."

Martin smiled. "I know both of your hard work is paying off."

"Oh, Dad, I almost forgot. Some guy came by this afternoon looking for you," Ali said, between mouthfuls of chicken and rice.

"Who?" Martin asked.

Miguel shrugged. "Some creep. Kept staring at me funny, like he knew me. Said his name was Enrique." He grabbed his glass of orange juice and gulped loudly.

Ali made a disgusted face and braced herself for her father to reprimand Miguel; Martin usually did not tolerate poor table manners. But this time, he seemed not to notice. Martin's eyes widened in alarm. He set down his fork and exchanged an concerned look with Gina.

"Yeah, he wants you to call him. Left this number." Ali reached in her pocket and handed her father the card.

Martin stared at it, his expression quickly turning angry, as if he were trying to shoot daggers at it with his eyes. Miguel and Ali glanced at one another questioningly.

Gina placed a gentle hand on her husband's arm. "Maybe it's time to talk to him, Martin. It _has_ been a long time."

"You know this guy, Dad?" Ali asked.

"Yeah I know him." He crumpled up the card and threw it on the table. "I don't care how long it's been, I'll never speak to him again." Martin's words were firm.

"Who is…ouch!" Ali began, but Miguel kicked her under the table to silence her. Ali wouldn't hold back, but he knew better than to question his father at a time like this.

"I understand. But Martin, the children…" Gina spoke gently and gestured to Ali and Miguel with their questioning eyes.

He sighed and arose from the table. They heard the door to the garage squeak open and slam shut, then open again a minute later. Martin returned with a worn, leather-bound book. It must have been black at one time, but now turned green with a thick layer of dust. Ali and Miguel recognized it as the one they had found years ago when their father had told them about Marty Gretsky. They stood on either side of their father, glancing over his shoulder as he flipped through pages of black and white photographs. Finally he opened to a photo of a young couple. The man wore a dark suit, hat and had dark, intelligent eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. The woman was young, and wore a 1950's style mid-calf length dress covered with tiny polka dots. In her arms, she cradled a small baby wrapped in a blanket. Both were smiling brightly at the camera.

But Miguel froze. Looking at this man from the past was like looking into a mirror, right down to his glasses. It was an eerie feeling.

"These are your grandparents," Martin told his children matter-of-factly.

Ali pointed to the baby. "And that must be…"

"Yes, that's me. "

Both of Martin's children focused on the picture, taking it in. They had never seen any photographs of their father as a child, and never heard anything about his childhood. This was the one connection they had ever seen connecting them to their Castillo name.

Martin continued. "Your grandfather was a good man. He was a lawyer, a very successful one, but he still had a strong sense of justice. He always stood up for what he believed was right, no matter the cost." Martin turned to his son. "That's why I named you for him, Miguel. But my parents had strong beliefs against the government. Because of that, they were murdered in front of me when I was just 9 years old. My Uncle Enrique, my father's younger brother, took me in. That's the man you met today."

"Wait, so that guy is your uncle? That must be why he acted so weird when he saw Miguel today. It must have been like seeing his older brother's ghost!" Ali remarked. "But if he's family, why don't you want to speak to him?"

Martin took in a deep breath, and it seemed as though he were trying to resist the onslaught of memories flooding his mind. "He was not a kind man. He hit me every chance he got, told me I meant nothing to him, threatened to kick me out almost daily. I left as soon as I was out of high school and never looked back. I don't want him in my life, and I don't want him in my family's life."

Ali and Miguel nodded, exchanging a glance out of the corners of their eyes.

After dinner, both kids retreated to their rooms. Miguel couldn't wait to text Roni, and Ali to read her book. As the night grew later, Ali tapped lightly on her brother's bedroom door.

"Mig?" She called softly, peeking inside.

"Hey Ali." He motioned for her to come in, which she did, closing the door behind herself. "You thinking about what Dad said?"

Ali nodded. She sat on the bed beside Miguel and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Dad never says _anything_ about himself," she mused, staring off at nothing in particular. "We'd talk about Mom's family, us, work, friends, anything else. Dad's life was always the elephant in the room nobody would talk about. It's like in our hearts we knew it was bad, and best left buried."

"Yeah, I mean, I never knew where my name came from. It's like there's a whole other part to me that I never knew…our grandparents. I bet there's even more to his past, Ali. Seems like we're getting it in small pieces. First Jack Gretsky, now this."

"And our father was left for dead in the jungle, lost his best friend tragically, saw his parents murdered, and was a victim of child abuse. How much heartache can one person take? Man, no wonder it took him so long to get married, to trust anyone." Ali dug her nails into her palm, and Miguel knew exactly what she was thinking. "Enrique had better never come back here."

The next day, Ali and Miguel were home alone again after school. When the doorbell rang, they both froze and their eyes met.

"It's him." Ali said flatly, slamming her book down on the table.

"Ali!" Miguel cried, following her. "Don't open it, he'll go away!"

But it was too late. The front door flew open and Ali approached the man. "My father told me all about who you are! You'd better get off our property before I make you!"

Miguel tried to position himself between his sister and Enrique. Ali was tiny, but he knew what she was capable of when angered.

"Ali, take it easy…"

"I will _not_ take it easy, Miguel!" She pushed him aside and faced Enrique. "My grandparents needed you to care for their only child, and all you did was make his life hell!

"My brother had it all and he threw it all away and got himself killed because he couldn't keep his big mouth shut! I certainly never asked to get stuck raising his brat of a kid!"

"You abused a child! Maybe I should show you what it's like?" She held her clenched fistes threateningly in front of her body. "He was just a little kid! He needed you!"

"He was worthless burden on me!" Enrigue took a step toward Miguel who stood firm, ready to fight back if necessary. "How old are you, kid? 17? 18? I wasn't much than you when I was told I was stuck with a child who depending on me for everything! I had to quit school! And marriage? Ha! No girl wanted to be stuck with some kid that wasn't even mine. How do you think you would fare in that situation?"

Before Miguel could reply, Ali came back angrily. "My brother is ten times the man you are! Get out, OUT!" Ali growled through gritted teeth, physically shoving the man off their front porch as Miguel struggled to hold her back. As much as Miguel wanted to see this guy hurt, he knew his father would not want some guy bleeding in the front yard.

Enrique straightened his coat. "I can see the attitude runs in the family." He stomped away, his car screeching away from the Castillos' home.

"You think he'll come back?" Miguel wondered out loud.

Ali's eyes were still narrow and angry. "Not if he knows whats good for him…"


End file.
